


do you believe in soulmates (because I'm yours and you're mine)

by geralehane



Category: Elyza Lex (Fanverse), The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Clexa, F/F, Soulmates AU, lexark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-05-25 21:51:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6211444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geralehane/pseuds/geralehane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“No offense, but your name sounds really…” Elyza waits with baited breath while this Lexa tries to find the right word. “…weird. Sorry. I suck at this. Socializing, I mean. I’m Alicia. Alicia Clark.”</p><p>Elyza feels like hollering and laughing and crying, because Alicia’s tongue clicks on a ‘k’ and rolls on an ‘r’ in just the right way and she doesn’t know if she can handle it.</p><p>Alicia is not Lexa. But Elyza isn’t Clarke, as well, not anymore.</p><p>Elyza nods and takes a swig from her bottle of water, wishing she had something stronger instead.</p><p>(Also based on a tumblr prompt: Ok but like imagine Elyza remembers being Clarke and is enjoying seeing the commander able to be a normal teenager and Alicia catches her staring at her smiling so many times and Elyza has fully accepted the fact that Alicia will never remember then one night they about to go to sleep and she whispers "Goodnight Ambassador")</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Elyza Lex is badass and Lexark is canon pass it on *drops mic*
> 
> This kinda turned out angstier than originally intended? But still with a happy end? Lexark is ruining me in the best way possible, by the way.

Clarke wakes up with a start, and doesn’t recognize her surroundings.

She’s in a room that looks nothing like the Ark or Polis or Mt Weather; the mattress is a bit lumpy, but soft, and the walls appear to be made of wood. Everything looks like old movies she's watched once or twice on the Ark, and something in her head clicks.

Her name is Elyza Lex, she’s in USA, it’s the year 2014. She doesn’t have anyone left and she’s heading west.

There is something liberating about walking out the door with nothing but a backpack.

//

The universe has a sick sense of humor, she thinks, as she fights off several walkers. She just had to end up in yet another apocalyptic reality didn’t she? At least last time, she faced the consequences of the apocalypse; now, it’s the end of the world, and she’s right in the middle of it.

There are way too many of them, and she retreats, running inside an abandoned warehouse. Her hand grips her crossbow tightly. She hears shuffling followed by a scream, and she doesn’t hesitate before running towards the sound. Old habits die hard, she thinks.

It’s a walker cornering a girl. It’s always a walker cornering a girl. Elyza – she grew accustomed to her new self, and now it feels weird even thinking of herself as anything other than Elyza Lex – steadies her hand, points at the walker, and shoots. He jerks back and falls, and he doesn’t rise again.

The girl slides down the wall, breathing fast, and Elyza jogs up to her, hoping that she’s not bitten and oh God, _it’s Lexa_. Lexa is sliding down the wall, struggling to catch her breath, and _oh God_ what is she _wearing_?  
   
Elyza doesn’t even think as she falls to her knees, gathering Lexa in her arms and squeezing her, blue eyes disbelieving and wide.  
   
“It’s okay,” she finds herself whispering. “You’re okay.”  
   
//  
   
Lexa has no idea who she is.  
   
They run from the warehouse and find a house with tall, heavy gates; Elyza takes out five walkers that have been chilling casually in the yard, and they barricade themselves for the night.  
   
“I’m sorry,” Lexa says as they finally sit down, savoring every sip of fresh water they found in a pantry. “I didn’t even get your name, and you saved my life today.”  
   
Lexa has no idea who she is.  
   
“Elyza,” she replies, and she swallows a bitter lump in her throat. “Lex. Elyza Lex.”  
   
Lexa scrunches up her nose at that. It’s not something she’d ever do.  
   
“No offense, but your name sounds really…” Elyza waits with baited breath while Lexa tries to find the right word. “…weird. Sorry. I suck at this. Socializing, I mean. I’m Alicia. Alicia Clark.”  
   
Elyza feels like hollering and laughing and crying, because Alicia’s tongue clicks on a ‘k’ and rolls on an ‘r’ in just the right way and she doesn’t know if she can handle it.  
   
Alicia is not Lexa. But Elyza isn’t Clarke, as well, not anymore.  
   
Elyza nods and takes a swig from her bottle of water, wishing she had something stronger instead.  
   
//  
   
Alicia Clark is a bit of a brat.  
   
She is every bit the sassy teen girl Lexa wasn’t, and Elyza has a hard time wrapping her head around it at first, but then it becomes clearer.  
   
Alicia is everything Lexa could’ve been if she had a phone and no obligations to her people and, well, no ‘her’ people. She’s snarky and sassy and closed off, but she’s also kind-hearted and well-meaning and much too wise for her teenage years, which doesn’t surprise Elyza – she did live countless of lifetimes before. She still rolls her eyes the same and juts her chin up defiantly at just the right angle, and her eyes are still intelligent and careful. But Alicia is also _lighter_. She wears shorts and Converse shoes and she carries a backpack clutching to the straps with both hands like a little girl, and that lightness, that _youthfulness_ about her is captivating, and it leaves Elyza breathless.  
   
Alicia has a family here, in this world; a mother and a brother. She got separated from them, but she knows they were planning on heading north, to their extended family, and she hopes to find them there. Cellular connection is dead, just like landlines, so she can’t reach them. Hope is pretty much the only thing she has left. There is also her mother’s boyfriend who she doesn’t want to talk about. Elyza thinks it’s because she doesn’t like him; turns out it’s because Alicia is afraid he’s dead and she didn’t get a chance to tell him he’s actually not that bad and she’s glad he makes her mom happy. Elyza can relate to that. She, too, has plenty of missed opportunities and unspoken words, and she wishes nothing more than to fix it.  
   
But Alicia doesn’t remember.  
   
//  
   
She’s staring, and she knows that she’s staring, and she can’t do anything about it but stare some more.  
   
Alicia is practicing with a sword. She’s terrible with a gun, but in this universe, Elyza considers it a plus – using guns just might be the worst idea. Those things – the walkers – they are attracted to loud sounds like a moth to a flame. Firing a gun is equal to committing suicide. She still carries hers, though, just in case. She doesn’t want to think about what that case might be, but she’s not dramatic enough to have only two bullets in it. It’s always fully loaded.

So, Alicia is practicing with a sword, and it’s not a surprise to Elyza that the girl is a natural. She doesn’t twirl it, yet, but her hits are pointed and calculated, and her step is quick and balanced.  
   
She’s so busy admiring Alicia’s form with a shiny sword she doesn’t notice the girl stopping and looking at her curiously.  
   
“You’re staring.” Alicia isn’t shy about calling her out. She blinks.  
   
“I’m sorry, I…” She’s lost. “I was… reminiscing.” _You fought for peace and for justice and you fell down and for a split second, I thought I lost you, but I didn’t. I lost you in a way much more cruel and heatless, when I was least expecting it._  
   
“What, seen a lot of girls fight with a sword?”  
   
_Yes, actually, but I remember you the most, and you don’t remember me at all._  
   
“Not really, no.”  
   
//  
   
Things are going well.  
   
Alicia masters the sword, and they progress quickly to their destination. Elyza finds out she can play ukulele, and nights are spent with her humming Fleetwood Mac’s _Dreams_ and _Landslide_ and her all-time favorite _La Vie En Rose._ Alicia scoffs at first, but begins to listen more and more, especially after her portable chargers die and she can’t use her phone anymore. She pouts for days after that, and Elyza finds it irresistibly cute. There is no one to text anymore, anyway; but Alicia is sad that her music – her awful pop music – is gone, so Elyza tries to hide her smile and cheer her up by playing her favorite songs. Now, their nights are _Big Girls Don't Cry_ and _Night Moves_ and Alicia hums some other songs by heart. Elyza doesn't know them, but her fingers pick the rhythm and find right chords, and together, her ukulele and Alicia's voice sound pretty decent.  
   
Lexa and Alicia merge, and while she still feels Lexa’s essence, Lexa’s soul inside this girl, she also senses Alicia’s own persona, and Elyza is as drawn to her just as Clarke was to the Commander.  
   
_Commander_. The word slices through her heart, and it’s the first night in a long time when Alicia goes to sleep without Elyza gently strumming the ukulele strings.  
   
//  
   
They run out of water and Elyza suggests they raid a supermarket. Alicia doesn’t exactly object. She’s been practicing with a knife as well – Elyza has been teaching her – so now, armed with a knife and a sword and new fighting skills, she feels like she can take on the world. Elyza finds it endearing, and she smiles at her.  
   
Alicia notices.  
   
“You keep doing that,” she remarks, twirling her sword. It’s such a Lexa move, but Alicia manages to make it look cute, somehow; her face is fresh and clean of warpaint and her jacket’s sleeves are just a tad too long. When Alicia holds a sword in her firm grip, she’s not thinking of her people and peace and impossibly high stakes; she’s thinking of her mom and her big brother and she’s trying to pretend she’s not thinking of her mom’s boyfriend and his son. She just wants to make it alive, to see another day, and maybe find some gluten-free snacks along the way.  
   
Elyza wants the same things, minus the gluten-free part. She just wants some goddamn chocolate.

Irony sucks, she decides; the world is crumbling around them, and yet they are finally free.

She realizes Alicia has asked her a question when the girl eyes her with her brow raised.

“Doint what?” She asks.

"Looking at me like you know me," Alicia says after a brief pause.

"I do know you, Alicia Clark." Elyza has learnt to say her last name without flinching.

"No, I mean, like we've met before, or something. Have we? I'm not good with faces." Alicia shrugs, in that nonchalant teenage way of hers, and Elyza knows she should stop referring to everything she does as ‘teenage’, but she can’t help it. She’s still amazed that Lexa, the Commander of Thirteen Clans, the girl burdened by fate since she was a kid, is finally able to experience freedom from her obligations. Alicia doesn’t owe anyone shit, and it’s beautiful and liberating, and it’s even better that Elyza doesn’t owe anyone shit, either.

Maybe, _someday_ just became _now_.  
   
They get supplies and bash some walkers’ skulls in – Elyza started carrying a baseball bat with her because cracking rotten heads is one hell of an antidepressant. Alicia slices a walker’s head off and shouts a “that’s a twenty!” before she can stop herself, and Elyza can’t contain her laughter. She’s come up with a points system for killing walkers, just to make it more interesting, and Alicia rejected the idea, stating how it was ‘immoral’, ‘unethical’ and way worse than ‘kindergarten capitalism’. She still doesn’t get Alicia’s personal vendetta against Monopoly, by the way. Now, the girl is grimacing at her bloody sword and looking for a napkin to clean it and hardcore ignoring the fact that she has just succumbed to Elyza’s Hella Rad Walker Slayer game.  
   
“Alright, cutie,” she chuckles. “You get twenty points. But I took down more than you did, so, even though a baseball bat to the head is only a ten, I still win.”  
   
Alicia scowls like a bratty teenager she is, and Elyza _revels_ in it.  
   
//  
   
Some things never really change. Alicia kisses her first, tentative and shy and curious, nothing like a calm, gentle confidence of the Commander. Elyza has learned not to flinch when thinking of that name, too.

Her lips are slightly chapped from wind and biting, but they still feel the same. It's hard not to lose herself in the kiss; it's even harder not to burst into tears. She thinks she does a good job at pretending everything's fine.

When Alicia slowly distances herself from her and wordlessly hugs her, she realizes she sucks at pretending.

She's afraid to fall asleep that night, clutching at Alicia and refusing to let go, because in that moment, the girl couldn't be any more Lexa. She's watching her with those big, sad eyes, and they're greener than ever before, and Elyza really doesn't want to cry, but she does anyway.

Alicia doesn't mind. She holds her and shushes her and strokes her hair and rocks her slightly back and forth. And she might not have her tattoos or her forehead symbol or her tired, weary face, but she's got her soul, and for now, that's enough.

If she's being frank with herself, that's all she'll ever need.

She's exhausted, and she's almost asleep when Alicia whispers to her. Almost. She's almost asleep.

"Good night, Ambassador."

Elyza's eyes fly open.

 


	2. Chapter 2

They expect to reach Alicia's family by the end of the week.  
  
Alicia has been showing her pictures and telling her stories. Madison, Alicia's mom, reminds her of Abby - Elyza doesn't really know the rules to this whole universe-hopping thing: should she still call Abby 'mom' when she's not Clarke Griffin anymore? Probably not. Elyza wonders if Abby's soul is also somewhere in this wolrd; if she's a mother to another daughter, a wife to another husband, a mentor to another girl. If she is, Elyza hopes she's okay; but her heart doesn't skip a beat, and her chest doesn't ache with bittersweet memories.  
  
She knew it all along, as soon as she saw Alicia, but that revelation about Abby makes her belief even stronger. She's here because Lexa is here. Alicia. Because Alicia is here. Whenever she thinks of anyone else, she regards them as Elyza would; strangers, ghosts of her other life.  
  
Clarke Griffin only exists where Lexa is concerned.  
  
And Lexa is... Alicia is complicated.  
  
It's been almost a week since she has called Elyza Ambassador. Elyza had no idea it was possible to go numb from feeling too much at once. When they had just met, she used to imagine what she would do if Alicia suddenly remembered; if she would cry or laugh or kiss her, her Lexa - sometimes, she'd imagine all three. But Alicia hasn't remembered, and Elyza let go.  
  
She thinks back to the moment it all crumbled.  
  
Alicia called her Ambassador, and, when Elyza froze and faced her and shook with emotion, she stared back, confused.  
  
"I, uh.. I'm sorry," she said. "I don't know why I called you that. It was like... a thought? A memory... Which is ridiculous. I mean, we haven't met before. We haven't. It's crazy."  
  
That's how Elyza learns Alicia is getting her memories back and is dead set on not letting them into her head. "It's crazy," she says. "It's not possible."  
  
Elyza doesn't know what she wants to do in that moment: smack Alicia upside her stubborn teenage head, or wordlessly spread her arms at the disaster that is their world now. Because, come on. They are in the middle of an apocalypse, dead people are eating flesh of the living people, and living peopl turn into dead people that crave flesh of the living people.  
  
Yeah. Them being soulmates is absolutely unbelievable.  
  
Elyza soon realizes that the problem lies with Alicia herself. The girl is stubborn, she knows that; the girl is also a control freak, she knows that too. The concept of being fated to be with someone is robbing her of her free will, and that's why Alicia doesn't let Lexa in.  
  
"Why did you kiss me, then?" She asks, bitter and hurt. Alicia lowers her gaze to the ground. "You haven't been conditioned to do that. You are not a puppet. That’s not how it works. Our souls just... I don't know, they like each other very much and want to be together, any pace, any time - why is that such a bad thing? You feel like you don't have a choice, and I get that; but... what if it _was_ your choice? _You_ made that choice - your _soul_ made that choice a long time ago, and your soul wants it so much she keeps making that choice over and over again." Elyza doesn't know what she's saying anymore. All she knows is that Lexa is somewhere there, and Alicia is, too; and she can't lose any of them. Her. She can't lose her, because they are one and the same, but the girl is just too damn stubborn to see it.  
  
Alicia nods. Alicia needs time. Elyza understands. Elyza wants to punch a wall because role reversal is so not hilarious and the irony is really getting on her nerves lately, but she understands.  
  
It’s all very anticlimactic.  
  
//  
  
The following week after Alicia’s slip up is torture and salvation all at once.  
  
They almost reached a small Minnesotta town where Alicia's family is supposed to be; they don't talk much about their past lives. Alicia is working on letting her memories in, she can see that. The tiny little glimpses of Lexa shine through more often in this past week than in the whole two months they’ve known each other; she'd twirl her sword and be surprised at how light it feels in her hand; she'd let out a war cry and then slap a hand over her mouth, mortified; sometimes, she looks at Elyza with a spark in her eyes, bold and proud and defiant.  
  
Elyza takes down so many walkers she loses count. It’s not as therapeutic anymore.  
  
“I keep getting those… patches of the past,” Alicia says once. “It’s so random. I look at you, and suddenly your hair is longer and your scars are different. You look at me, and it’s different, too.”  
  
They figure out a pattern, soon.

Lexa is triggered by emotional response, it seems; whenever Alicia feels _something_ , she remembers. She brings it up once, and something inside Elyza finally breaks; that small wall between Elyza-her and Clarke-her crumbles, and everything comes flooding back in. She hasn’t realized how hard she has worked to dissociate herself from her other self. From Wanheda. From the Sky Princess. From Jake’s daughter and Abby’s child and from someone who had her people.  
  
From Lexa’s… everything, it seems.  
  
Now, she understands Alicia’s adamant desire not to let her other self consume her, because she’s been doing that, too, afraid of false hopes and fake expectations.  
  
But Alicia says she feels something, and her eyes are earnest and green and open, and Elyza surrenders to her.  
  
They lay entwined in a dark, unfamiliar room, in an empty, strange house. She’s clinging to Alicia, she can’t help it; right now, she’s her only lifeline; in this vulnerable place she’s let herself go to.  
  
“It’s weird,” Alicia speaks suddenly, and her fingers stop tracing Elyza’s skin. “Laying with you and not smelling the furs. Sometimes I feel so… alien here. But I can’t remember why.” She raises slightly, propping herself up on her elbow, and God, Elyza forgets how to breath, because she’ seen it before, and she doesn’t want to think about what happened next. “I wasn’t like you, was I? I was different from you. Very different. I’ve never felt this way before, but then I meet you and there are these images and dreams, and sometimes I think of my mom and feel so weird. Like, ugh, I don’t know. And the way I talk sometimes. It doesn’t feel right.” Her gaze is distant; Elyza wishes she could know what’s going on inside her head. She also wishes she could help her, but their processes turn out to be so different. She didn’t have to come to terms with her other self; she justwas. Alicia can’t grasp the concept, and Elyza doesn’t blame her. It’s as fucked up as it is tragically beautiful, or beautifully tragic – she hasn’t decided yet.  
  
For now, though, she’s in her arms, and the night is quiet, and she doesn’t have anyone to think of but her; it’s more than enough.  
  
//  
  
Some days are harder than others.  
  
Today, Alicia is agitated. Her fingers tremble just slightly when she picks up a sword; her face is a constant battle between a snarl and a scowl, one is so inherently Lexa and another completely Alicia. Elyza knows what it is. She feels like she’s losing herself.

Elyza hates thinking of Alicia as something fragile, but that’s exactly what she is right now. She remembers a story her mother, the one from this universe, used to tell her when she was little. The story of a little glass princess. She danced inside a snow globe; one time, she got curious and climbed out to explore the world. But glass shatters and breaks, and so the princess, too, slipped, and fell, and shattered. And the little glass princess was no more.

Alicia doesn’t want to get out of her head and explore everything that lays in her vast subconscious because of that particular reason. She’s glass, and she’ll break.

Elyza hates it that she thinks so, too.

“Behind you!” She hears Alicia yell, but there are so many of them. They don’t have a choice – either cross the woods or go around, and second way will take another week. Alicia can’t take it anymore; the longer they move, the less chance there is that they’ll find her family alive and well.

Elyza might not have any responsibilities, but Alicia does. The only difference here is that Alicia is someone’s responsibility, as well.

“Where the fuck did they all come from?” She exclaims in a whisper, ramming a knife inside a walker’s skull. It’s gross. It never stops being gross. There is no getting used to this. Alicia slices through several walkers before glancing at her, curiosity all over her face. It happens a lot now; every time Elyza swears too loud or snorts or takes a well-deserved cigarette drag, she’s met with a curious gaze from Alicia Clark. Then, she blinks, and the twinkle is gone.

Like right now. Alicia blinks and turns away and is ready to face walkers, but Elyza hesitates. She balances on the edge between the confines of her snow globe and the world outside.

A rotting hand grabs her, and she’s about to shatter.

She doesn’t remember much; everything is a blur afterwards. She knows she stumbles back, and she knows she must’ve hit her head because her ears are ringing and her vision is hazy. Alicia is in front of her, and the walker is nowhere in sight.

She’s about to pass out when Alicia speaks, her voice is gentle and quiet and _strong_.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, Clarke. You’re safe.”

And the little glass princess was no more.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW. IT'S BEEN FOREVER. And this chapter is very short - I'm sorry! I just didn't want to leave you guys hanging any longer.
> 
> Also, I finally know where I'll take this. It will have angst, but it will also have a happy ending for all four of them. I think there are like 3 chapters left till the end. Please read and let me know your thoughts. Your comments seriously give me life.
> 
> Also pt2: follow me on tumblr at hopelesslehane for updates, never-ending Clexa sin and LExark HSAU concepts and headcanons.

She’s floating underwater.

The light fights to penetrate the thick water wall; Elyza looks up, and it’s fading as she falls deeper and deeper. Her naked arms look sickeningly pale, slowly moving as she drifts. Someone is shouting.

She resurfaces with a gasp. It was a dream, she realizes; a concussion-induced nightmare reflecting her mind’s state. She’s lying on an unfamiliar bed, and Alicia is at her side in an instant, hand outstretched but not daring to touch. There is a crease on her forehead that hasn’t been here before, and her mouth is tight-lipped and tight-closed. But her eyes are always there to betray her, wide and worried and awed.

“Clarke.” Elyza wonders for a brief second why Alicia is calling her by her own last name when it clicks, and she feels like she’s drowning again.

It’s _her_.

“Lexa,” she breathes, and it’s a blur. Her arms, her face, her lips her lips her lips and blood rush in Elyza’s ears, pulsating and wild.

_“Lexa.”_

“I’m here. You’re okay.” She collapses, and Lexa is here to catch her, and her arms tremble as much as Elyza herself.

//

Lexa doesn’t remember being Alicia.

She looks bizarre in those shorts and that plaid shirt and trusty old Converse shoes. Uncomfortable in her own skin. Her regal posture is different from Alicia’s occasional slouch. Lexa twirls her sword with ease and looks at Elyza with a gentle calmness that is supposed to be everything she’s longed for. It’s suffocating. But her lips quirk in just the right way at Elyza’s loud swearing and her hair is braided with the same intricate thoroughness and her arms are steady and strong around Elyza at night.

She calls her Clarke, and Elyza tries to keep her flinching internal. Sometimes, it slips through. Lexa notices, she always notices. She chooses not to comment.

It’s three days since Alicia left her that she explodes.

“I’m not her anymore!” She wants to growl, she really does, but what comes out instead is a pained cry of a swan, and Elyza hates it, she hates it she hates it she hates it. “I’m not Clarke, Lexa. A part of me is. But I’m not… I love you. But I miss her. I can’t…” She half expects Lexa to be confused, and once again, she doesn’t give Lexa enough credit. The girl nods and smiles sadly. It’s unfair, Elyza thinks, that the Commander was graced with such a tender soul. A soul that was her undoing.

Her memories resurface, and the gunshot is still deafening; she has to physically stop herself from covering her ears with her palms, from falling to her knees and rocking back and forth. Lexa was taken from her by a harsh unforgiving world, and Alicia was taken from her by Lexa. It’s all very, very unfair.

“I’m sorry,” Lexa offers, and it’s quiet. She is so soft-spoken in this world. Elyza thinks it’s because she’s still not used to it; but she also thinks that maybe it’s because the previous world didn’t allow her to be soft. Maybe, that’s what Lexa actually is. “I’ve only known her. Clarke. The girl I love. I know Alicia was that for you. I’m sorry, Elyza. If I knew how to get Alicia back, I would do it instantly. But she’s not reaching out to me. She’s silent. I can’t feel her.”

“Have you been reaching out to her?” Elyza asks, and Lexa shakes her head.

“No. Or I simply don’t remember. All I know is you, City of Light, and you again.” Lexa falters. “I meant Clarke. Not you. I… This is confusing, Elyza.” She shifts on her feet, small without her usual armor. It’s fascinating how they are different yet so alike, Lexa and Alicia.

The blonde huffs.

“Tell me about it, Commander Raccoon.”

Lexa looks genuinely offended, and it’s so inherently Alicia that Elyza wants to scream.

//

They are nearing their destination, which is unfortunate. Lexa doesn’t remember her – Alicia’s – parents. All they have are photos; there’s no flicker of recognition in Lexa’s forest green eyes when she looks at them, at Madison and Travis and Nick. It’s bad. Elyza proposes they fake amnesia, which seems perfect to her since they don’t even have to fake it, really, since it’s kinda what’s been happening anyway.

Lexa refuses.

“They might suspect something is wrong with my brain. Like, maybe a walker bit me and I’m infected and that’s why I don’t remember.” Elyza tries telling her that’s not how bites work, and she’s really close to suggesting she clocks Lexa out so that she gets a nice bump on her head and they’ll just tell everyone she fell, but the Commander is adamant.

“I am not saying we won’t find them, Elyza,” she says instead. “We will. And we will keep an eye on them until we figure out how to get Alicia back.”

Lexa’s gaze is longing yet understanding, and Elyza is hit with the realization. Lexa knows she was falling for Alicia, and she also knows how hard it was for her when Alicia disappeared, seemingly without a trace. How much harder will it be for people who’ve known and loved Alicia her whole life?

Elyza blinks away her tears and nod her agreement, and for the first time in several days, Lexa’s hug doesn’t make her feel guilty. Her arms around her, slender Alicia arms, feel strong and safe and tender, and she breathes in and struggles not to fall apart.

“If only I could bring her back…” Lexa starts to whisper, but the blonde interrupts.

“I know. And, Lexa, if only I could let Clarke take over, I would, too.” She sniffles and scowls when she feels Lexa’s chuckle rumble through her chest. “Hey. Don’t laugh at me when I’m having a moment. I don’t usually cry that much, by the way.”

Lexa’s eyes are green and smiling and earnest.

“I’m not laughing at you. I’m just finding you adorable and cute.” Apparently, Lexa is also very good at picking up modern speak.

“Well, I am neither of those things, so you can stuff it.” Lexa’s laugh is so incredible Elyza just has to kiss it, and that doesn’t make her feel guilty, as well.

"I wouldn't ever expect you to erase yourself, Elyza," Lexa whispers after she breaks their kiss. "I love you. All of you. I hope that makes sense."

"I love all of you, too," Elyza whispers back, and somehow, it makes all the sense in the world.

//

It doesn’t happen gradually, but it feels like it.

One night, they find a guitar, and she plays cheesy rock songs from the nineties, enjoying the way Lexa’s eyes sparkle in wonder, and the way she giggles when “Kristy are you doing okay” becomes “Lexa are you doing okay” – not Elyza’s most original moment, but anything that makes Lexa laugh counts as awesome in her book, anyway.

They laugh and sing; they drink orange soda and Lexa marvels at the taste; they play Monopoly, and while Elyza briefly wonders why is it that every house they spend the night in has this godforsaken game, Lexa manages to go bankrupt several times and pouts her way out of jail.

One night, Elyza goes to sleep with Lexa’s arms around her, strangely at ease; one night, Elyza goes to sleep without the gnawing feeling of guilt eating at her chest.

One night, Elyza Lex falls asleep next to the girl that resembles the one she loves.

Next morning, Clarke Griffin wakes up next to the girl she loves, and her heart beats like crazy when astonished sky blue meets worried forest green.


	4. Chapter 4

Clarke isn’t used to these clothes or these shoes or this world. She isn’t used to these buildings – still standing tall and proud, not yet withered away, not yet conquered by the nature and wind and sun. She isn’t used to her fingers strumming the strings of a guitar – an instrument she only ever read about and never actually saw with her own two eyes, let alone held one. She isn’t used to strange sweets and snacks, to orange soda that tingles on her tongue and leaves an incredible taste in her mouth.

She isn’t used to Lexa. She was never used to Lexa. She never had time to get used to Lexa. It’s hard to get used to something she’s held in her arms for a fleeting moment of desperate happiness that was too close to despair.

But, as she’s tearing away Lexa’s strange shirt and strange shorts and frees her strange hair, she finds she is looking forward to getting used to this; this, call it a second chance or fate or her own personal heaven.

Because Lexa’s lips are just as soft and her back arches in just the right way and Clarke might not have had the time to get used to her, but she sure as hell _remembers_.

“Clarke,” Lexa breathes, and her eyes are wide and disbelieving and so, so green, and it _hurts_. “Clarke, wait.”

Everything comes crashing down on her, and her hands tremble as she stops. Lexa is looking at her, longing, yearning, searching and finding.

“It’s you."

Two words, and they don’t hold much meaning as three different words could, but they very nearly destroy Clarke. She thinks this is why she never let herself become immersed in Lexa so completely, if at all. To become accustomed to her. This is why; two words, in a broken whisper, but filled with such wonder and _hope_ , and it hurts it hurts it _hurts_ and she lets the pain wash over her, welcoming it.

Lexa was never good at hiding her emotions around Clarke, and it was too much; too much intensity, too much love, too much devotion, and the worst part was Lexa never asking for anything in return. It weighted her down, Clarke told herself; she only had a place for one responsibility in her heart, and between her people and Lexa, the girl she couldn’t afford to love never came first. She thought it was the same for Lexa, too.

And then she hears a gunshot and the girl she couldn’t let herself love is bleeding black, and there is blood on her hands and it’s Lexa’s it’s Lexa’s it’s _Lexa’s_ -

Clarke crumbles and weeps, and Lexa gathers her in her arms, the gesture all too familiar to the Commander.

//

“Clarke.”

Green eyes are smiling down on her, and the blonde re-discovers speckles of grey in them.

“Say it again.”

Green eyes don’t stop smiling even as an incredulous eyebrow is raised at her.

“Your name?”

Clarke shifts in slender arms, moving lazily to sit in the other girl’s lap. She noticed that Lexa of this world is slimmer somehow, less defined. She looks younger, too; Clarke briefly wonders what she looks like, as well. The light in Lexa’s gaze lets her know she looks ethereal, and she revels in it.

“Yes. My name. Say it again.”

“Okay, Clarke.” She hears the smile in Lexa’s voice before she sees it. “Clarke.”

She leans down and kisses her name from full lips, greedily drinking the laughter that spills from them.

//

It’s been a few hours at most. The sun is high in the sky, and Lexa gives her an apologetic smile as she rises from bed to close the blinds.

“Wait.”

Lexa doesn’t freeze, but she stills, gracefully flowing from one pose into the next, turning slightly so she looks at Clarke over her shoulder. She is bathed in sunlight, her form slim, her body with less muscle, free of clothes, free of tattoos. She looks beautiful, Clarke muses.

She looks full of life.

Clarke gently tugs her back to bed, and Lexa’s body is highlighted by the sun as she writhes and arches, and it’s magnificent.

//

She knows they need to talk. She knows Lexa is curious about her life after she passed away. She probably should be curious about this new world that Lexa told her about in snippets and broken words between moans and screams and whispers. They probably should find something to eat and she probably should be thirsty by now; the sun set somewhere around Lexa whimpering her love for Clarke into her hair as the blonde gently brought her down from her high.

Clarke knows they should be doing the responsible thing, but she finds she doesn’t care for responsible at all.

“You must be hungry,” Lexa whispers, as if reading her thoughts. They are tangled together, their strange clothes covering the floor, their bodies slick with sweat. Neither is bothered by it.

“I just ate,” Clarke smirks, and then recoils lightly at her words. The response came naturally; she wonders if it’s something to do with this world they’ve found themselves in. Lexa chuckles, and the sound vibrates in her chest, resonates in Clarke’s heart, loud, full.

“How very Elyza of you,” she comments. The chuckles die down. Lexa’s fingers stop tracing Clarke’s bare skin; for a moment, but Clarke notices. She lifts herself up so she can see Lexa’s face.

“Who’s Elyza?” She asks. As Lexa’s face falls, so does Clarke’s heart, because she knows. She knows that this moment of happiness, less fleeting than the last they had, but fleeting nonetheless, is about to end, and she knows the burden of responsibility will be thrust upon her shoulders again. Upon their shoulders.

Lexa doesn’t frown, doesn’t shift her gaze to the ground, doesn’t let out a heavy sigh. She simply looks back at Clarke, and her eyes are as full of devotion as they were before this Elyza has been brought up. But there is something under the surface, lurking, and tension coils in the pit of Clarke’s stomach, unpleasant.

“There are things you must know, Clarke.”

Clarke hates how everything became about “must” again.

//

“So… You kissed her.”

Now, Lexa does frown.

“It is not about-“

“I know, Lexa.” She sighs. She’s not ready to leave the comfort of Lexa’s arms just yet, but they really do need to get up now. “I’m trying to make light of yet another shitty situation. A shituation.”

Lexa’s chuckles are sardonic and nothing like Lexa at all. Clarke has a feeling it is very “Alicia” of her.

“Funny,” the brunette snorts, and Clarke blinks. But Lexa sobers up very quickly. “I… Truly don’t know what to do. I feel guilty about my happiness. I feel… I feel like I took it from them.”

Lexa’s tears are unshed.

“Well,” Clarke says, trying to think of something and coming up with nothing. “I mean… If your theory about them having our souls is correct, then technically we didn’t take anything. We just remembered our past lives. That’s it.” She smiles, then, taking Lexa’s hands in her own. They both pretend their hands are steady. “Also, for your soulmate speech, you are so getting to do stuff tonight.” Words feel unfamiliar on her tongue. Lexa’s crooked smile feels unfamiliar, too – but so, so familiar at the same time.

“I did plenty of stuff today, Clarke.”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet, Lexa.”

They both pretend those aren’t tears in their eyes, and Clarke is afraid to fall asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

see notes at the end, please!

* * *

 

They decided to look for Alicia’s family in the end, just to make sure they are fine. They don’t find them.

 

A small Minnesota town was their last bet - now, standing in the living room of a yet another strange house, they don’t really know what to do next. Lexa isn’t Alicia; she doesn’t know, can’t know, can’t even predict where Alicia’s family might be going next, or if they’ve even been here at all. Clarke looks around, still awed by so many things. The house looks mostly untouched, with everything intact, if only covered in dust. There are pictures of people on a shelf: one with a boy no older than twelve clutching a baseball bat, smiling, a tall man and a slim woman hugging each other in the next, same man and woman and the boy together in the third, all wearing bright red sweaters with reindeers on them. Still smiling. She wonders where this family is now; if they are as happy as they appear to be in those photos to her, a random stranger in their house. If they will ever be as happy as they look to her. Probably not; of course not. Pictures capture one given moment and while it lasts forever on paper, in life, it doesn’t.

 

Clarke thinks back to an old, tattered drawing and long, cold nights, and her hand reaches into her pocket for a chip that isn’t there.

 

Lexa’s presence is strong behind her. Quiet. Solid. 

 

“What do we do now?“ She hears Lexa say. 

 

Clarke exhales, and lets her hand fall to the side, unclenching her fist. Nothing slides from her palm but air, and the realization makes her smile.

 

She doesn’t need bittersweet symbols anymore. 

 

Lexa’s presence is warm and comforting, just like an embrace Clarke throws herself in a moment later. The commander staggers back slightly, unprepared, before her arms come up to rest on her waist, and Clarke chuckles into dark curls.

 

“Live, I guess,“ she says, and takes a step back to look Lexa in the eye. “We just live.“

 

She watches Lexa’s lips slowly stretch into a smile.

 

//

 

They stumble into a bedroom upstairs - of course, not before Lexa ensures they’ve locked all the doors and barricaded themselves - ‘it is for our safety, Clarke.’ She thinks Lexa simply doesn’t want any interruptions. She can second that.

 

Lexa is warm and pliant under her hands as they fall on a bed blindly, a tangled mess of limbs and lips. Lexa is smiles and giggles as Clarke struggles to get her shirt off and almost falls off the bed. Lexa is greedy hands and greedy lips once they are free of clothes, skin on skin.

 

“I love the way you feel against me,“ Lexa whispers to her once they’ve gotten past the impatience of the first round. They are slow now, lazily exploring each other all over again; Clarke loves the way Lexa maps out her body, her long, wonderful fingers trailing her naked skin. She loves the way Lexa takes her time discovering her; loves that Lexa always finds something new about her body.

 

She especially loves the way Lexa looks at her as she strokes just right, thrusts just a bit deeper; loves the way her green eyes darken when Clarke responds with moans and screams and writhing. 

 

She loves the way Lexa holds her, then; secure, safe, like she’s never letting her go. Like she is making a silent promise and Clarke is making a promise of her own. Their fingers are entwined as they lie there, just gazing at each other. Clarke never wants to leave.

 

Lexa’s name is the only thing on Clarke’s lips as they fall asleep.

 

//

 

They meet people and they save people and they say their goodbyes to people and never stay. Lexa says it’s because she doesn’t want to be a burden. Clarke knows it’s because they don’t want to have yet another burden placed on them.

 

The world as those people knew it has, in fact, ended. They are living the apocalypse; they’ve witnessed it brewing and they were there when it exploded. It’s the end of the word and Clarke has never felt more alive. 

 

Lexa is all she has. It’s more than enough. 

 

Time seems frozen in place sometimes, but days still pass; they turn into weeks, then months. Clarke notices how the world isn’t an unusual place to her anymore. She notices how she seems to know facts she shouldn’t be able to know. Notices how Lexa easily operates cars, radios, phones.

 

They don’t talk about it, because there is no use to talk about it. Alicia and Elyza are still in their heads, and over the time, they will come back. Neither Clarke nor Lexa know if that will be at their expense, and right now, Clarke doesn’t really care. Lexa doesn’t, either. They feel the girls slowly merging with them, but it doesn’t bother them.

 

It’ll still be _them_ in the end, no matter what names they will call each other. 

 

Right now, she is Clarke and Elyza; and Lexa is Lexa and Alicia. It’s inexplainable and mad to someone who’s never experienced something like that. Clarke doesn’t think of Elyza as someone foreign, an invader. She doesn’t really think of her at all, because she just is.

 

All she has is Lexa, and all Lexa has is her, and all they have together is each other and an open road. Nothing else really matters, and Clarke will never be able to describe the relief she experiences every morning she wakes up. 

 

“Clarke,“ Lexa says one time, right when Clarke suddenly realizes she knows exactly what vegemite is and why one should never spread more that a tablespoon on their bread. “I…“

 

Clarke is at her side in an instant. 

 

“Lex? You okay?“ She reaches for her hand, clasping it tightly to feel her pulse; but then she looks down on their joined hands and looks back up at Lexa’s confused expression, and _I love you! I will always be with you_ hits her right in her stomach before she manages to breath through it.

 

“Clarke.“ Lexa’s voice is strong and full and young; and her eyes are wide and smiling. She’s calm as she looks at Clarke, and tender, too; Clarke will never get tired of her gaze. Lexa softens before she utters her next words. “I love you, too.“

 

Clarke laughs.

 

This feels like a beginning.

 

She feels complete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, sadly, this is the end of 'do you believe in soulmates' fic. I didn't really plan for this fic to be very long from the start. I'm sorry if this feels too short, I know it is; but that's what felt right to me. 
> 
> I want to thank you all for this incredible journey that we've been on together. 
> 
> I want to thank this incredible fandom that's been there for me since code 307. 
> 
> And I want to tell you that while this is the end of this pic, it's not the end of Clexa. This ship will continue to live in our hearts, minds and souls; in countless alternative universes and realities; in fics and art and headcanons. We are the ones who will keep them alive, because Clexa is ours.
> 
> May we meet again.
> 
> “I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times...  
> In life after life, in age after age, forever.  
> My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs,  
> That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in your many forms,  
> In life after life, in age after age, forever.“
> 
> (c) Rabindranath Tagore


End file.
